


Differences Aplenty

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To be completely honest, this is probably not John's idea of the perfect way to introduce himself to troll anatomy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Differences Aplenty

**Author's Note:**

> first Homestuck fic i've ever finished and decided to post! and of course it's smut. ahaha, oh, self.

To be completely honest, this is probably not John's idea of the perfect way to introduce himself to troll anatomy.

Not that having Vriska sitting in his lap, shirtless and grinning like a cat about to pounce, isn't completely delightful, but John's more preoccupied with the fact that when Vriska shifts her hips up against his own, he feels something...wiggling in her pants. He hadn't really been paying attention to anything beyond her breasts (because hello, he's a teenager and there is a half-naked girl sitting on his legs) until Vriska's hips _rocked_ forward against his own, and then _holy shit there is a tent in her pants that should not logically be there._

If Vriska was human.

Which she's not, and John had to come to terms with that properly. Yeah, he could acknowledge the grey skin, the horns, the claws and teeth, but when he thought about what might be below Vriska's belt, he'd assumed it was...humanish.

Not whatever is now pressing against him.

John leans back, blinking wide eyes down between them. "Uh, Vriska?"

"What noooooooow?" Vriska gives a long-suffering _sigh_ as she leans back, her eyes following John's gaze. She clearly doesn't see anything out of place, and she looks at John again, frowning. "Seriously, John, what's got your nook in a knot?"

"Your--" John gestures down at Vriska's crotch, and when she just cocks an eyebrow at him, he reaches out, carefully _poking_ the bulge in Vriska's pants. When Vriska shivers, he starts to realize that, yes, that kind of seems to be exactly what John assumed it is.

"It's called a bone bulge, John," Vriska said, in an almost condescending tone. "Humans have them too, right?"

"Well, I mean..." John swallows thickly, trying to figure out how to word this right. "Human...guys have one. Not girls. And it doesn't, you know, move."

"Huh!" Vriska tilts her head, honestly intrigued as she reaches down, slipping clawed fingers under John's shirt. "Weird."

 _You're one to talk_. John was going to say something about how trolls were just as weird, but Vriska's fingertips are sliding up his chest, her thumbs finding his nipples to _ever so lightly_ drag her claws over them. John's train of thought is promptly interrupted, hands going to Vriska's hips and squeezing.

Vriska makes a noise that's nearly a purr, the sound beside John's ear as her tongue drags over his throat.

The wiggling...bone bulge in Vriska's pants is momentarily forgotten in favor of John letting his hands explore Vriska's chest in a way similar to what she was already doing to him. His hands cup her breasts, kneading experimentally, and he can't deny how much he loves it when the purring grows louder, Vriska's approval obvious and her squirming growing more pronounced in his lap until she sharply pulls away, nearly cutting John's chest as she yanks her hands out from under his shirt.

"Something new now," she decides, licking her lips. Her eyes are hazy, almost glassy as she smirks at John. She pushes him down on the bed, then pulls away, shucking off her pants and leaving them carelessly with her shirt. She's anything but shy as she climbs back onto John, and now he has a clear shot of...what exactly was wiggling against him.

Oh fucking hell.

Vriska's "bulge" resembles a tentacle, like something straight out of Rose's fantasies (John would bet). It's tinted the color of Vriska's blood, and worming around, curling around itself and unfurling, reaching for something to hold onto. It takes John longer to process that just beneath that squirming mess, Vriska's thighs are nearly dripping. Blue fluid is smeared from where she'd pulled down her pants, but more is slowly coating her grey skin, nearly reaching her knees. John's eyes follow the fluid back up between her legs, and he sees a slit where the blue mess is originating from; hesitating, he reaches out, dragging fingers over Vriska's thighs and through the genetic material. It's sticky, viscous, and John's not sure what to _do_ with it; there's just so much!

"Hey, no touching until _you're_ naked, too." Vriska's voice cuts through John's contemplation, and his gaze snaps up to her face; he notices that her cheeks are flushed a little blue, and her hair is sort of a mess, strands falling in front of her face and curling around her jaw and cheeks.

"Right. I can do that," John says quickly, and Vriska's polite enough to let him get his own pants and underwear off, along with his shirt, before she plops back into his lap. God, she's wet and dripping and the fluid is already getting all over John's legs. There's a lump in John's throat, and, swallowing around it, he reaches out to touch Vriska again, but she catches his wrist.

"Hold your hoofbeasts, John. I want to touch you first," she decides ,and she scoots back to get a look at John's hardened cock. " _Wow,_ this is weird," she breathes, reaching out to prod John's length. It bobs, and she seems both amused and pleased with that. "It doesn't even move!"

"I-I told you," John says breathlessly, his big teeth digging into his lower lip as he lets Vriska touch and play as much as she likes, though his own hands are itching to get back on Vriska's skin.

"Hmmmmmmmm." Vriska contemplates her next move, and when she scoots closer to John again, she lets her bulge _wrap itself around his cock_.

" _Holy fucking_ \--!" John's hips jerk up immediately into the pressure, and Vriska almost _giggles_ ; she really likes that reaction, apparently. The appendage wound around John's cock starts to _undulate_ and _squirm_ , and John is completely lost in the sensation, any thoughts about weirdness or alien genitals now wholly forgotten in favor of how fucking good Vriska is making him feel.

"V-Vriska," he pants, his head falling back on a pillow, and Vriska leans over him, her hips raised but her shoulders dipped to brush her breasts over John's chest. He is sure she can feel the way his chest heaves, how worked up he is just because of the pressure and slide of her alien...dick on his own. God, that's so weird to think about; Vriska's a girl, he knows that, but...she's got this tentacle thing and-- and then her bulge does something incredible and twisty and John just doesn't even care anymore.

Vriska's sharp teeth tug at John's ear, gently enough not to hurt him, but the slight sting sends shivers down John's spine, heat building in his belly. "Vriska," he repeats, and he can swear he hears the quietest, faintest murmur of his own name from the troll, breathed across the shell of his ear. His hands finally move from the sheets, resting on Vriska's hips, sliding over her ass and down her the backs of her thighs; she's so wet that even there his fingers catch in the sticky fluid, but he doesn't really pay it any mind before his hand slips around to the inside of her thighs, moving up, up, up...

There's a sharp gasp against John's ear when he presses his fingers to Vriska's nook, gathering the fluid as it seeps out of her, and he spreads it over his digits, then presses one _into her_ , and god, she's hot and wet and it feels like her nook is pulling him in... 

They moan in tandem, and John's hips rock up into the squeeze and tug of Vriska's bulge, just as she starts to move against him, into his fingers. The motion pulls at John's cock, just enough to make his moans louder, to prompt him to do more, press another finger into her, _not stopping_ ; neither of them wanted to, not now, not with the amazing, unfamiliar pleasure that's coursing through them. John's never felt this good before, and the fact that it's Vriska, so close, so warm, makes all of it _better_ , and when she lifts her head to press a sloppy, breathless kiss to his lips, John doesn't hesitate to kiss her back.

Writhing, moaning, a complete mess of fluid and sweat, John and Vriska rock together; the position is almost uncomfortable, but it's all made up for when John feels his climax crest, and he comes over Vriska's bulge and his own belly.

Vriska breaks away from the kiss to look down, to watch, her eyes wide, but they grow wider still when John stops coming, and he flops uselessly back on the bed, his fingers still loosely inside Vriska's nook.

"That's all?" she asks breathlessly, blinking owlishly at John.

John stares at her, his expression a little lost. "Ye-yeah?"

"You'd never fill a pail," Vriska decides, scoffing as she pulls away from John, her bulge releasing his as she sits back on the bed. Her own fingers take the place of John's in her nook, one hand curling around the twisting length of her bulge, and the appendage wraps around her digits as she works herself over. John's too dumbstruck to move or speak or help, and he can't do more than watch as Vriska reaches her climax, her back arching sharply as she lets out a high shout, shaking and shuddering, and then suddenly John's bed is _soaked through_ as blue fluid gushes from her.

So...that's what pails are all about.

John is sure his jaw is hanging open as Vriska finally finishes, and she flops onto her back, panting raggedly, but looking...sated. Shifting around, John crawls so that he can lie beside her, his chin perching on her shoulder. The bed is horribly sticky, but for the moment, he chooses to ignore it in favor of grinning at the troll.

"What?" Vriska asks, her eyebrows rising, her voice breathy.

"Nothing," John decides, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. "That was just kind of different."


End file.
